


The Merging

by ladyxgreywolf



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Real World, Dystopia, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6246730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyxgreywolf/pseuds/ladyxgreywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years ago the Pokémon World and the world known as Earth collided and mixed. Fearful of these new creatures, the governments of Earth created the Global Pokémon Control Agency - GOPCA. Now GOPCA is in charge of most things around the world and people live in fear of both them and the ones GOPCA are said to protect them against; the Pokémon and the rebel organization the Pokers. (NOTE: pairings will be added once they're revealed in the story)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **January 2018: Rating has been upped to Explicit.**
> 
> Alright, so here's the thing; I'm 24 years old and I have never had an interest in Pokémon. I've known the basic stuff and I've seen a few anime episodes and even owned two or three cards at a time, but it's not been something I've been interested in learning more about. However, when I moved to my own apartment last autumn and got a job as a teacher I needed an easy TV-show to watch while correcting exams - and Pokémon came up as an alternative. Long story short I watched the three seasons of Pokémon Black & White available on Netflix a total of three times between September and January and became obsessed. And when I get obsessed with something I tend to read up on all that is available to read about it.
> 
> While doing this I had this really strange little idea that "what if Pokémon appeared in this world? how would the normal people react?" and I just couldn't let it go. I eventually decided to see if I could create an actual story of the idea and for the past month I have been mapping out various Pokémon characters and original characters, locations and random dialogue ideas for my first actual dystopian fic.
> 
> I'm not entirely caught up on the old seasons of Pokémon - or the games - so please be patient with me if I write a character in a strange way or describe a Pokémon incorrectly. If you look past that I really hope you'll enjoy this story!
> 
> * * *

_“Green fire... flickering green flame... I saw it engulf Kalos and threaten to consume_

_all of the people and Pokémon in that swirling fire... you will all play a substantial_

_role in the chaos and turmoil...”_

About five and a half years ago the Gym Leader of the Anistar City Gym in the Kalos region, Olympia, revealed that prophecy to Professor Augustine Sycamore. Less than six months later it came true. A swirling green fire engulfed the Kalos region, consuming everything in its path, before it was gradually replaced with terrible earthquakes – not just in the Kalos region, but in every region. Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh and Unova; they all suffered just like Kalos. It seemed the ground itself wanted to swallow everyone on the surface. And as if that were not enough the days grew shorter and shorter, the stars seemed to shift in position and the climate grew colder and colder.

     It all ended with what is now known as the Merging. A collision of two worlds, but neither was entirely destroyed. The physics behind this are, to this date, unexplainable and thus no one knows how to undo it. But the consequences of the Merging are there for everyone to see.

     The world of Pokémon merged with another world, which was simply known as Earth. On Earth there were no Pokémon and thus many were frightened by these creatures and the people working with them. The people of the Pokémon World were equally terrified, but for different reasons; they were suddenly in a strange new world with different technology, different geography, different everything. They no longer had homes to go home to and took to sleeping out in the streets and in the wild with their Pokémon. Their differences made the Earthens feel like both these new people and the new creatures were uncontrollable. Four months after the Merging, the governments of Earth came together to create an organization called GOPCA – the Global Pokémon Control Agency. Their job was to capture all Pokémon and keep them away from Earth’s natural ecosystem – and its humans.

     It did not take long for GOPCA to gain more and more power within the governments of this new world, to change laws and the way things were viewed. It became illegal to voice support of Pokémon. It became legal to place Pokémon in laboratories and use them to create energy, medicines, weapons, poisons. It became illegal to have “unnatural looks” – by which they meant the hair and eye colours that were genetically natural for many people from the Pokémon World. The world became divided into “us” and “them”. For a few lucky people things did not seem to change, but for the majority – people from both worlds – it turned out to be very different.

     It turned into a nightmare.


	2. Chapter One

Ari zapped between the four available television stations on her mother’s old TV. They showed just about the same thing as always – GOPCA press conferences, information on how to deal with wild Pokémon, adds for various GOPCA-related jobs and the news, which were often GOPCA-related. When Ari was a teenager there had been other stuff – and more channels – to watch and zap between, but for the past three-four years this had been all there was. Eventually she settled on the news, lowered the volume so that the sound was almost muted and lay back down on the couch. If this had been before the Merging she would have played games on her phone, but nowadays one wrong word typed on a search engine or a bad autocorrect sent to your friend could send you to a Recreation Centre. In other words; phones were monitored. So were computers and public spaces – which meant anything outside the actual house or apartment you lived in. Two years earlier Ari’s friend Nikki had been taken away to a Recreation Centre by GOPCA for mentioning the word “poke” – as if that was synonymous to “Pokémon” or “the Pokers”, which were a terrorist organization working against GOPCA. She had not come back yet.

     Now Ari did not just lie on the couch for an hour while half-listening to the news. Instead she picked up her trusty tennis ball and threw it up into the air, then caught it. She had become very good at catching it in various ways, and at various speeds. Not that she had any idea when she would be able to use this skill, but it was better than just lying there.

     This day she had been tossing the ball and catching it with two hands, one hand, three fingers, two fingers and even attempting to catch it with her feet when the news presenter said a familiar name. Ari turned and saw a picture of a young man with dark brown hair being displayed next to the presenter. She instantly sat up and turned up the volume.

     “...has been found guilty of housing two Pokémon in his apartment. Daniel Howell, a former YouTube star, has been monitored by GOPCA for the past year after questioning the methods of GOPCA personnel. After suspicious activity happening in the apartment yesterday, GOPCA did a house search and found two Pokémon hidden behind a loose wall panel in Daniel Howell’s bedroom. Howell has been sentenced to time in a Recreation Centre. His friend Philip Lester, who shared his apartment, has been taken in for questioning regarding the Pokémon. On site at the two men’s apartment we spoke with the GOPCA agents in charge.”

     The image changed to show a regular London street with two GOPCA agents standing in front of the microphone. The logo on their grey suits showed the usual black hand with a red and white eye at the centre of the palm, as well as the letters _GOPCA-UN_. These were United Nations agents with the ability to operate anywhere in the world – and Ari knew exactly who they were. They showed up all the time on the news and were praised for their good work. They signed autographs to mile after mile of people at every press conference.

     James Sasaki and Jessica Miyamoto.

     “The operation was successful”, Jessica said with her usual movie star smile. “No one was hurt and the Pokémon have been taken into custody.”

     “Mr Howell will doubtlessly see the wrong in what he has done and be able to return to his usual home in a couple of months”, James filled in. Ari wrinkled her nose in disgust before turning off the television. She did not believe them for a second.

     It was not the first time that a celebrity of some sort had been monitored and then taken to a Recreation Centre by GOPCA after questioning something they did. It happened all the time – and often James Sasaki and Jessica Miyamoto were on scene to apprehend them. Ari usually played a game of determining where the two agents actually came from whenever they appeared on screen, but there were so many conflicting traits and whenever she dared typing in their names online she felt like at least half of what she read about their childhood in the US must be fabricated. They both had Japanese last names, but did not look very Japanese – or Asian. Their accents were not American, nor British, nor any other accent that Ari had heard anywhere else. The internet told sunshine stories of their childhood with their respective parents and siblings, but there were no images of those people. It was like James and Jessica had just appeared out of nowhere. As if they were part of the Merging and the Pokémon World.

     Ari had never voiced these suspicions, of course; saying such things were guaranteed to send you to a Recreation Centre. Which, by the way, was nothing but a fancy term for “imprisonment”. No one knew where these Recreation Centres were unless you were a part of GOPCA itself – and Ari had a feeling that not even all people who worked for GOPCA knew all about those places. Whenever someone was taken by the organization they gave a statement that said that he or she “would be back within a few months”, but it never happened. No one who had been sent to a Recreation Centre ever came back. Nikki had been sent to one two years ago and her parents knew nothing of when she might be back. In fact they acted, in public, as if they no longer had a daughter named Nikki. In private they could speak in low voices about her, but never for long. It was too dangerous. If one member of the family was taken by GOPCA it seemed to be very common for the rest of the family to be monitored. One wrong word and you could lose someone else.

     The door slammed, making Ari wake up from her thoughts. Moments later her mother walked into the living room.

     “Arianna”, she sighed, “what have I told you? No sandwiches on the coffee table.”

     Ari resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead picked up the half-eaten sandwich from the table. Her lunch, which she had not been hungry enough to finish.

     “How was work?” she asked and rose from the couch.

     “Tiring”, her mother answered, “but Rosemary brought some vegetables from her garden for us all to share.”

     She opened her bag and took out a cabbage head and a plastic box with small, red tomatoes. Ari smiled slightly; vegetables were hard to grow nowadays and thus expensive. Many blamed it on the Pokémon they thought resided in the earth itself, but Ari suspected that was not entirely true. The climate had changed since the Merging; anything green suffered. Rosemary Collins, a colleague of Ari’s mother, still managed to get crops from her small garden and naturally shared them with all of her friends, but five years ago, just after the Merging, she would have been able to give everyone a whole tomato plant, cucumbers, peppers, cabbage and carrots. Since then the share had grown smaller and smaller every year.

     Ari’s mother put the vegetables on the counter in the kitchen, before opening the fridge to take out a can of soup.

     “Have you continued to plan?” she asked with her back to Ari. Ari took a bite from her now dry sandwich before answering.

     “I’ll take a boat across the channel and then fly from Amsterdam to Moscow. It’s cheaper.”

     “When?”

     “In a week”, Ari replied. She knew her mother disliked this idea of hers, but she needed to do it. She needed to find her father and in Russia she imagined she would be able to speak more freely – strange as it may sound. The largest country in the world was not as controlled by GOPCA as the majority of the others and chances were that she would encounter actual wild Pokémon while there. She did not voice these thoughts aloud, though; the only thing people around her knew was that she was going to Russia to find her father, who had gone there when she was six and not yet returned.

     “Have you got everything you need?” her mother asked.

     “I’m going to head out and get some more stuff now”, Ari replied and finished off her sandwich. “I just wanted to make sure you got home before I left.”

     Her mother glanced out through the dirty kitchen window onto the street two floors below. It was getting darker fast nowadays.

     “Do be careful, Arianna”, she said. “You never know who might be out in the shadows at this time of the day.”

     “This is London, mum”, Ari replied. “You never know what might be out in the shadows at any time of the day.”

* * *

By the time Ari made it down to the street night had truly fallen. Ever since the Merging dusk seemed to be a fleeting thing. Same with dawn. Another thing that Ari hated about the time since the Merging; dusk and dawn had been her favourite times of the day. When she was a kid she had loved just staring out at a sunset or sunrise, watching the sky change colour. She sometimes came in late to school because of this. But now those things were shortened – in some places dusk and dawn did not last longer than a few minutes. Blink and the light had completely changed. At least in London they would last a little bit longer – maybe fifteen minutes if you were lucky.

     Now that time of the day had passed, however, and the temperature dropped by at least five degrees. Ari pulled her hood up over her messy dark hair to keep some of the chill out, before walking in the direction of the nearest underground entrance. On the way she passed several alleys where she knew people from the Pokémon World were staying. They never bothered her and she never bothered them, but others claimed to have been harassed every time they walked past the alley entrances. Paranoia – another side effect of the Merging.

     She took the tube to Liverpool Street, which at this time of the day was close to deserted. Ari quickly steered towards one of the few open shops near the underground entrance. It was one of those places that seemed to sell one thing, but once you got inside you saw that they had other wares as well. In this case Ari was after information – and there was no better place in London to get rare information than _Timothy Green’s All Day Shoes_.

     Timothy Green was a portly man with round glasses that seemed too small for his head and feet that seemed too small for his body. His hair was brown and greying and he had both frown and laugh lines etching his face, and he always dressed impeccably, like most store owners in this area of London.

     “Ah, the day’s final customer”, he said when Ari stepped inside. “What can I do for you at this hour, miss?”

     Ari walked up to the counter and handed him a crumpled note.

     “Have you got anything like this?” she asked. Timothy Green read the note with a frown. Then he quickly glanced up, peering out onto the street, before shaking his head.

     “I’m afraid not”, he said. Ari’s heart sank.

     “But”, the store owner said, “I’ll write down where you might find it.”

     He grabbed a pencil and jotted down a few scraggly lines at the bottom of the note, bending over it so that it was impossible for Ari to read while he wrote. Then he quickly folded it back up and handed it to her. As she took it he held it for a moment longer than necessary and made a slight motion with his head towards a wall in the shop. Ari stiffened, then nodded.

     “Thanks”, she said. “Let me know if you get something that size, alright?”

     “Of course. Best wishes to both you and your mother.”

     Ari then turned and walked back out onto the street, forcing herself not to run. GOPCA was monitoring him. Since when had that happened? Timothy Green was not a threat to anyone and he was the GOPCA London agents’ personal shoe maker. Why would they be monitoring him all of a sudden? Had he sold information to someone regarding GOPCA-related issues?

     The questions swirled in Ari’s head and she had walked quite a long way away from Liverpool Street when she suddenly realised that she had not even looked at the scribbled lines on her note. It was a bad idea to do such a thing out in the open; there were cameras everywhere and if Timothy Green was monitored and was seen dealing with her GOPCA might be interested in knowing what the note said as well. They might have been following her to where she was now through their monitors.

     “Damn paranoia”, she muttered to herself and focused on walking. The note was in her jacket’s left pocket. She needed to find a place where it was impossible for cameras to film her from the right when she took it out and read it, but where? This was London; even before the Merging there had been cameras everywhere.

     A sound from a dark alley caused Ari to stop in her tracks. It looked like any other dark alley in London and, most likely, it was home to some people from the Pokémon World. She heard the sound once again; a low mumbling along with metal touching metal. Perhaps there were trashcans in there and some people were raiding them, hunting for food. At least the sounds then made sense.

     The next moment she had to duck as the lid from a trashcan came soaring out from the alley like a Frisbee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this chapter and want to read more of this story, please leave a comment and/or kudos!


	3. Chapter Two

_My mother brought me to Shanghai when I was four. We came from a small village in the Sichuan province and when I came to the city – which at the time had a population of around fifteen million – I was so scared of the high buildings. I thought they would one day crumble and fall onto my head. I also hated that the Shanghainese did not use a lot of spices in their food, but that is a different story._

_My mother thought my fears and dislikes about Shanghai were ridiculous. She spent twelve hours every day either on the metro or Pudong – among the highest towers in the city. She reported on the progress of first the World Financial Centre and then the Shanghai Tower every day when she came home – the buildings fascinated her to no end. But no matter how much she talked about them my fears of them crumbling did not disappear. I refused to visit Pudong, to cross the Huangpu._

_Now I wish that I had._

_After the Merging, Pudong was abandoned. It started slowly with people claiming that spirits had started to appear on the east side of the Huangpu. Then came the constant fog. The famous skyline disappeared, even if the day was clear and the smog was minor. After that the ways across the river – both below and above ground – were blocked by debris one by one. The boats could still cross and did so for quite a while, but then they started to come back to the Bund empty of passengers. People who crossed the river disappeared in the fog._

_My mother was one of them._

_They say that the ghosts and spirits are responsible. That she angered them somehow. But I know better. I can see the small cameras outside of our apartment, monitoring my family. I know the GOPCA are responsible for my mother disappearing three years ago. I know they are waiting for me or my husband or my dear Daiyu to make a mistake. To say something we should not say. To go somewhere we should not go._

_I used to fear that we would. That one day the agents would show up and take one or all of us away. I should still fear that, but things have changed. I cannot stay like this._

_Mama, I am coming._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to make things clear; Ari will be the main character of this story, but every second/third chapter (at least in the beginning) will be about a person somewhere else in the world. These chapters will be short and written in first person, like a diary. So Ari will show up again in the next chapter and her chapters will be in third person!


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, like I wrote in the last chapter; this is following Ari again. Chapter 4 will be like chapter 2 and the continuation of this chapter will be in chapter 5 - which I'm already writing because I had a ton of inspiration (they finally put up new Pokémon episodes on Swedish Netflix and I've been watching at least ten yesterday and about the same amount today).

     “Look out!”

     Something crashed into Ari from the side just before the trashcan-lid-turned-Frisbee hit her. She landed with a grunt, pain blazing from her right shoulder. A tall, lean body pressed against her own, shielding her.

     “Are you alright?”

     The voice was male and sounded kind, but in these times that did not mean a thing. Kindness could be easily traded for something else in mere seconds.

     “Fine”, she grunted and moved to get up. Her saviour immediately moved aside as well and Ari blinked up at him in the dim light of a nearby street lamp. He was certainly tall and lean, as she had expected, and older than her, maybe in his thirties. His hair was black and unruly, falling almost to his shoulders in thick waves, and he had a shadow of a beard on his cheeks and chin.

     “It’s dangerous to tempt the alleyways at this time of the day”, he said with a crooked smile and held out his hand towards her. She stood up without taking it.

     “Thanks”, she said and brushed off. Her shoulder still hurt; it did not feel dislocated but she would most likely be sore and bruised for days.

     “Are you far from home?” the man asked. “Shall I call a cab?”

     “What?” Ari said, turning to face him again. Whoever this guy was he did not fit in with the London she now knew – he was more old-school London. Except for his accent. Definitely not a London accent, or even a British accent. Now he put his hands in the pockets of his jacket, smiling that slightly crooked smile again.

     “Your shoulder”, he said. “You should probably go home and rest, put an ice packet on it.”

     “Well, if you hadn’t pushed me aside I wouldn’t have to”, Ari bit back. The man blinked in surprise, the smile vanishing.

     “I’m sorry”, he said, “but I assumed you did not want to be hit by a trashcan lid.”

     “I could have gotten away on my own.”

     She turned away from him and had walked exactly five steps when he called after her.

     “What’s your name?”

     “What’s it to you?” she replied, looking over her shoulder. The crooked smile was back, broader than before. What was it with him? Was he mad?

     “Just in case”, he said. Ari hesitated, then glanced up at the lamppost she was nearing. There was, undoubtedly, a camera up there and she was almost a hundred percent sure that GOPCA was watching. This guy could not seriously be asking her to give up her name in front of a bloody rolling camera, could he?

     “I’m Sycamore”, he said. Ari stared at him. Right, he was definitely mad.

     “The camera’s not on”, he continued, nodding at the camera she had just glanced at. That caused her to frown and turn to face him fully again.

     “How do you know that?”

     “If it was I wouldn’t be out here.”

     Ari’s eyes widened in shock. A Poker. The guy was a bloody _Poker_! She could not be seen with him; she was already in trouble after visiting Timothy Green! Everything she had worked for would be lost. GOPCA would find her way before she got out of England and definitely before she got to Russia. She would never find her father; instead she would spend the rest of her life rotting away in some Recreation Centre. And what about her mother? She would be monitored as well. Oh, bloody hell, this was the worst thing that could happen!

     “The longer we stand here, the more you’ll be noticed when you leave”, Sycamore pointed out. “Do you need a cab?”

     He was offering to get her away from here faster, in order to make it seem like she was never here when... when whatever it was that had brought him here happened.

     “Just to the tube”, she eventually said. There was no way she would let a cab hired by the Pokers drive her home. Sycamore nodded.

     “To the tube it is.”

     He took out a regular looking phone from his pocket and wrote something on the screen.

     “It’ll stop on the other side of the corner in five minutes”, he said, nodding behind her. “Don’t worry about the Catchers.”

     “Is that what you call GOPCA?” Ari asked.

     “One of many names we have for them”, Sycamore answered with that crooked smile of his. Then he walked the five steps she had moved earlier and held out a small card.

     “Just in case”, he said. Ari hesitated for a few seconds before she took it and put it in her pocket, next to the note from Timothy Green’s.

     “You’d better hurry”, Sycamore then said, nodding at the corner once more. Ari nodded as well, then turned and started to run. Half-way to the corner she stopped and turned back. Sycamore had disappeared. She was quite certain that he had walked into that dark alley, but she had no desire to turn back and look – or shout for him, in case there was another camera nearby that was not turned off. Instead she turned and ran towards the corner of the street.  She could see the cab approaching – an ordinary London cab, it seemed, but she had no doubt it was employed by the Pokers only. Or at least the driver was allied with them. It stopped in front of her and the driver lowered the passenger side window.

     “You need a ride, miss?”

     Ari hesitated briefly, then nodded and climbed in.

     “The nearest tube station”, she said.

     “Right away, miss”, the man replied. Ari watched the street corner disappear behind them in the rear-view mirror and let out a relieved breath. The driver was better than most other cabdrivers she had ridden with and she quickly glanced at him to memorize him. Even if he was employed by the Pokers she might be able to request him the next time she called a cab. If ever. He was relatively tall, with broad shoulders and a thick neck. He looked big but not fat, more like he had a lot of muscles, and he had a thick, brown beard. A nametag on his shirt said “Mr Meyer”.

     “Here we are, miss”, he said moments later. “Prepaid.”

     Well, that answered her question regarding his allegiance with the Pokers. Sycamore must have paid him through his phone. And that meant he might be able to give him a message.

     “Still”, she said, rummaged around for a bit and handed him a crumpled five pound note, “you’ve earned this.”

     Meyer raised an eyebrow at her, then glanced at the note.

     “Well, thank you, miss”, he said and accepted it. He slid it smoothly into his pocket, then stepped out, walked around the car and opened the door for her. She hurriedly jumped out and ran down the stairs to the tube.

     It took her fifty minutes to get home, after switching trains more often than she usually would have. There were no GOPCA agents hanging around outside the house and when she got inside she found her mother asleep on the couch, with the TV still on. Ari considered waking her, but her mother had had a lot of trouble falling asleep lately. Waking her up and asking her to go to bed might cause her to lose several hours of precious rest. Better let her be, though Ari could not keep from collecting her mother’s quilt from her bed and placing it on top of the sleeping woman. She then turned off the TV and headed into her own bedroom, removing her clothes and crawling down beneath the covers. She pulled the duvet up above her head and allowed her eyes to get used to the dark, before unfolding the note she had taken out of her pocket. The note from Timothy Green. The upper corner of it had been ripped off; she had managed to do that while searching for a pound note to give to the cab driver. On that ripped off corner she had also managed to write her nickname, _Ari_. It had been easy; she always had a small pencil in her pocket and when she had learned to write in school she had made it a game to write those three letters perfectly without looking. Now she only hoped that Meyers was able to give it to Sycamore – he had asked for her name and she guessed that she owed him that for helping her get out of there. And it was a nickname; not exactly something that he would be able to use against her. Hopefully.

     She shook her head slightly and focused on the note again. Timothy Green’s handwriting was not exactly neat, compared to her own, which was at the top. The question she had written there and shown him was simple – _Information about Russia?_ – and when he had started writing an answer she had hoped it would be exactly that. But now that she saw the reply she realized that is was something else.

     It was an address. In Paris.


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second "different character" chapter. Enjoy!

     _This was why I became a vet; the smiles you got when you announced that the pet you had just treated would be fine. They made up for all the times when I was disappointed in myself for not being able to save someone and had to deliver the terrible news to the owners. And all the times I was too late. Lately that has happened a lot; me being too late to do anything. Some of it I can blame on the changes in infrastructure here in Frankfurt; there are a lot more roadblocks and checkpoints and the shortest route from A to B now might have been the longest route before. Those security measures were added after a group of Pokémon were chased around town, wreaking a bit of havoc with their powers. One of them could manipulate electricity, another water – both vital to Frankfurt. GOPCA agents started swarming the city soon after that._

_This chaos also made smiles rarer. Any kind of smiles, not just the ones I get at the clinic. No matter if you support GOPCA or the Pokers – or neither – you know that an increase in GOPCA agents spells trouble for people without any real power. The lower class, the poor, the homeless. The upper class are not bothered at all, the middle class mainly unaffected. But they do not smile; if they come to my clinic for help, and I am successful, I only get a tight-lipped “thanks”. Others, people of the lower class, they smile more when I help. Saving their pets might be the first good thing that has happened in a long while._

_Claus and Hanne have had the same thing happen to their clinic. They are two of my best friends and we studied together. Now they run a clinic close to the_ _Hauptbahnhof_ _– the train station. Mine is further south, on the other side of the river Main, but we still keep in touch and on occasions where I cannot provide assistance at my smaller clinic, I send my clients to Claus and Hanne. And they send people to me occasionally as well. More often nowadays than before – and I rarely see them at my clinic. At least not the one that is open to the public; I have a second one. A secret one._

_Tonight I make my way there. Ahead the tower of Lukaskirche looms, the arms of the clock pointing to ten minutes to eleven. The door to the church is open and I see people sitting in the benches. Some are huddled over as if praying. I do not take the main aisle, but one that runs by the wall. The priest still sees me and nods in welcome, before continuing to preach his late night sermon. I sit down in one of the benches up front and listens for a while, before my eyes are drawn to a small figure to my right. It wears a small, brown hooded robe that has been cut off to fit its shape and sticks to the shadows by the wall, before darting towards my bench. Once next to my right leg it dares to look up, its large black eyes gleaming in its round, brown face. I smile and drop my hand from my lap, sneaking it a treat and causing it to grin._

_I became a vet for the smiles from people. Now I am a vet for the smiles from Pokémon._


	6. Chapter Five

     The next week was a blur of preparations for Ari. Or at least that is what she told everyone else when they asked why she was so distracted all the time – that her head is busy planning her trip. In fact it was more busy thinking back to that evening when she met a Poker for the first time and the address in Paris that Timothy Green gave her. She had not planned to go to Paris, but now it seemed inevitable. She could not change her plan to fly to Amsterdam from London, but she could fly from Amsterdam to Paris instead of going straight to Moscow. Or take the train. Besides, if GOPCA were after her it would be better if she did not go straight to her intended destination. That was what she had intended to do with Russia anyway – what she _still_ planned to do. Just with one more stop on the way.

     She kept an eye out for plausible GOPCA agents on the streets around her home as well, but so far nothing seemed to be amiss. When Nikki had been taken to a Recreation Centre, Ari had seen some people out on the streets days before, people who were not from around here. And, honestly, if they had just moved there she would have known.

     “Are you sure you’ve got everything?” her mother asked. Ari nodded and stifled a yawn. If it was not for the early flight she would not have been up for another three hours yet.

     “Everything I need is in this bag”, she said and shouldered the big backpack she had bought a month earlier. Now it was filled with clothes for travelling and hiking and various tools that may or may not become useful. She figured she could buy other things in Moscow when she got there.

     “Try to stay in touch”, her mother said with a small smile. “Send a postcard every now and then to let me know you’re alright.”

     “I’ll try, mum”, Ari said. She could not promise anything; if her father was being held by GOPCA they would definitely pounce on her the moment they found out, which they might do if she sent messages to her mother about it. If she did manage to send something she would have to code it.

     A honking sound made Ari turn towards the windows. There was a black London cab standing down on the street.

     “I guess this is it”, she said. Her mother stepped up and gave her a warm hug. Ari swallowed back the guilt of leaving her alone, but she should be fine. Her mother was tougher than she looked.

     “I love you, mum”, she still said.

     “I love you too, Arianna”, her mother replied, before releasing her and letting her walk out the door. Ari forced herself to turn, smile and wave on the stairs, before heading down to the street.

     “Morning, miss.”

     The familiar voice almost made her freeze mid-step. Meyer.

     “Good morning”, she managed to say and forced a smile. He held out his hand for her bag and she gave it to him, before hurriedly jumping into the car. The moment Meyer turned on the engine his cheery grin vanished.

     “Glad to see you in one piece”, he said. Ari stared at him, then glanced around the car. Cabs were usually bugged.

     “My son turned it off”, Meyer said. “We’re fine.”

     “Your son?” Ari said. Meyer nodded, but did not elaborate.

     “GOPCA’s looking for you – or someone like you – after seeing you dealing with Timothy Green.”

     “You’ve got to be kidding”, Ari breathed.

     “Afraid not. The Professor was worried it was because of his involvement first, but it seems the blackout worked.”

     “The Professor?”

     “Sycamore.”

     “He’s a professor? Of what?”

     “Ask him that the next time you meet him”, Meyer replied and turned a corner. “For now, let’s focus on getting you to the airport. Where are you going?”

     “First, I wasn’t planning on seeing either you or him again”, Ari said. “Second, my travel plans are my own.”

     Meyer smiled briefly.

     “Smart kid.”

     “Are you saying GOPCA’s about to catch me?” Ari asked. “And why do they want to catch me? I thought they were just monitoring Timothy Green.”

     “I don’t think they know exactly who you are yet”, Meyer said. “They didn’t get a perfect shot of your face. That hood of yours helped. And Timothy Green was brought in hours after you visited him. They know he sold information to the Pokers and saw you in his shop, probably not looking for shoes but information.”

     “So they think _I’m_ a bloody Poker?”

     “Welcome to the club.”

     “They think you’re a Poker as well?”

     “Honestly, kid, I don’t think they know yet, but _I am_ actually one of those bloody Pokers.”

     Ari’s jaw fell open.

     “So you’re not just a supporter?” she asked. “You’re a Poker? And you have Pokémon?”

     “Yep.”

     “With you?”

     “Yep.”

     “Why are you telling me this when I might yap about it to GOPCA?”

     “Because I have a feeling you won’t”, Meyer replied with a smile, “and I tend to be a good judge of character.”

     He glanced at his instruments briefly.

     “My son will have to let the car be bugged again soon”, he said. “When we get to the airport there might be GOPCA agents who realize who you are. If that happens I’ll create a distraction.”

     “How?” Ari asked.

     “How?” Meyer repeated, then grinned. “Well, miss, it’s quite easy. You see...”

     He started rambling about a certain part of the engine, as if they had been discussing mechanics for the past few minutes. The car must be bugged again. How did he know?

     “Looks like I’m boring you, miss”, Meyer said after a while.

     “No, no”, Ari said, “I’m just tired.”

     “Well, get some rest. It’ll take a while yet before we arrive.”

     For the remainder of the journey Ari pretended to sleep, while Meyer hummed some tune or another. So GOPCA was after her. Hopefully her leaving would mean her mother would not be pulled into whatever was going to happen to her. And Meyer was a Poker, not just a supporter. God, what had she gotten herself tangled up with?

     “Miss, we’re here”, Meyer said, pulling the cab towards the curb. Ari straightened. Even at this hour the airport was busy and full of people. A perfect place to hide – both for her and for potential GOPCA agents. She got out of the car as Meyer pulled her bag from the trunk, handing it back to her. He briefly met her eyes and nodded, as if confirming that he would be true to his word and create a distraction if needed be.

     “Thank you”, she said.

     “My pleasure, miss.”

     She turned and hurried into the terminal.

* * *

 

When she got to the gate she let out a relieved sigh. Both check-in and security had gone smoothly and no one had seemed to be a GOPCA agent looking for her. At least they had not arrested her, so she guessed that was true. Now she had a one hour flight to Amsterdam to decide her next step; follow her original plan or take a detour through Paris. She stuck her hands in her pockets and frowned as her fingers closed around a small object. A card. She inhaled sharply and realized that she actually had to add a third option to that list as well; find out more about the Pokers. If Timothy Green had indeed been involved with them then maybe they were the ones who could help her track down her father. Maybe her father was a Poker – or a supporter of the Pokers. But if he was would GOPCA not have been investigating her and her mother already?

     Her mind kept spinning with questions and theories while she waited for boarding to start, and after the boarding, and during the one hour flight to Amsterdam. No matter what she decided to do next it was clear that she could no longer ignore the Pokers as she had before. They knew who she was, they knew that GOPCA was probably after her and it seemed like they might want to help. Question was if she should accept that help or not?

     As the plane touched down she made up her mind. She would stay in Amsterdam for a day or two, see what happened, and then go to Paris. She would not head straight to the address Timothy Green had given her, but act as if she was simply travelling around, like in the old days. Once she felt safe she would head to the address in question. What happened next depended on what she would find there. She dared a smile when she walked out of the airport and looked around for a cab that could take her to the city. No Meyer here. The cabdriver who eventually pulled over for her was thin, middle aged and had a greyish tint to his skin – and was definitely not as good at driving as the Poker had been. But he got her to her destination safely, an inn not far from the train station.

     “ _Pardon,_ _mevrouw_.”

     Ari turned towards the man who had spoken. He was tall, with dark brown hair combed away from his face and broad shoulders. He wore a suit black suit jacket and held his hands clasped in front of him, a ring glinting on his right long finger. And he was standing right in front of the entrance to the inn. Ari’s throat closed up. He wore no badge marking him as a GOPCA agent, but her paranoia definitely saw him as one.

     “Er, yes?” she said in English. Dutch was definitely not a language she had ever considered studying.

     “I am Jeroen Cuijper”, the man said, switching to English as well. “Are you staying at this inn?”

     “I had planned to do so, yes”, Ari replied.

     “ _Neen_ , this inn, _mevrouw_ , is not of a good standard. Let me show you my hotel. It is just across the road.”

     He gestured behind her and she glanced in that direction, even though she was eighty percent certain there was no hotel there. She saw no sign indicating it either.

     “Why?” she asked.

     “Why?” Jeroen Cuijper said. “Because, _mevrouw_ , you want to experience the city of Amsterdam, _ja_? This inn will not give you a good experience. My hotel will.”

     He held out his hand.

     “Let me carry that bag for you, _mevrouw_ , as I show you the way.”

     Ari’s head was, once again, spinning. This man was either a thief or a GOPCA agent, or both. She had to get away from him. The question was how.

     Option one; ram him and get inside the inn. This would probably alert people in some way and she would be arrested for at least brawling with a man.

     Option two; run. Just run. If the man was alone she should be fine, but if he was not, if he had culprits hiding around them, she would be screwed.

     Option three; accept her fate, go with the man to his supposed hotel and see what happened. At least this would keep her mother from harm, she hoped.

     Option four... her fingers touched the small card in her pocket again. Without bringing it out she had made out the groves and dents in it on the plane. It was thicker than a normal business card, but smaller than her palm. Now her fingers ghosted over the groves and dents, reading the words like a blind person would read braille. _Press the button_.

     Option four; contact the Pokers.

     “Alright”, Ari said, “let’s go to your hotel.”

     Jeroen Cuijper smiled and held out his hand again, taking the bag from her and swinging it up onto his own back.

     “This way, _mevrouw_ ”, he said, waving her along. While he turned his back towards her to look for a clear way across the road, she gripped the card in her pocket and pressed the small button located in its centre.

     There was a shout from further down the street, near one of the canals. Both Ari and Jeroen Cuijper spun around as people started screaming and running their way.

     “Pokémon! Pokémon!”

     Jeroen Cuijper uttered a word that Ari guessed was a curse in Dutch, then grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her away from the channel. With his other hand he pulled out a phone. The case was marked with the GOPCA symbol.

     “Let go of me!” Ari shouted. “Let go!”

     “I have her”, Jeroen Cuijper said into the phone, ignoring her completely. “We’re under attack, send reinforcements.”

     His Dutch accent was almost gone by now.

     “Let go of me, you bloody...”

     “Shut up”, Jeroen Cuijper growled, interrupting her.

     “As if!” Ari spat back and yanked at her arm, planting her feet on the concrete. The GOPCA agent just pulled harder, until it felt as if her arm was breaking in multiple places at once. But it had slowed them down.

     “ _Oshawott_!” came a sound from behind them and Ari quickly spun around as a small creature launched itself at Jeroen Cuijper, pushing him away from her. In his shock he let go of her arm. The creature rolled off of him and plucked a shell from its stomach, from which a blade of icy white water sprung out. Before Jeroen Cuijper had managed to get back onto his feet the creature ran at him again and swiped with the blade at his legs. Two gashes appeared on his thighs and the man screamed in pain. Ari simply stared. She was so caught up in the duel between the creature – Pokémon – and the GOPCA agent that she had not heard the approaching steps until someone grabbed hold of her arm again. She swung around and punched with her free hand, connecting with the jaw of a younger man. He looked stunned.

     “Ow”, he said. “Was that necessary?”

     “Let go of me!” Ari shouted and yanked. The man released her at once.

     “Sorry”, he said, “didn’t realise I’d scared you. We need to leave.”

     An explosion from further down the street made Ari jump. Figures approached them at a running speed.

     “I think we’ve distracted enough people”, a tall, well-built Asian guy said.

     “I smell the wonderful smell of victory”, the other guy, lean and thin, filled in with a hint of a smile.

     “Good job”, the guy in front of Ari said, just as a yellow creature jumped up onto his shoulder.

     “What the hell is that?” she asked and took a step back.

     “My partner, Pikachu”, the man replied with a grin. “Now let’s get going. GOPCA will be swarming here soon.”

     The Asian guy led the way into an alley nearby and moved a couple of trashcans aside. He then took out what seemed to be an ordinary TV remote control and pressed a few buttons. A hole, just wide enough for a human to fit through if lying down, appeared close to the ground.

     “Ladies first”, he said and stepped back.

     “I’m not going in there”, Ari protested.

     “Would you rather head back out to the street?” the lean guy asked. Ari hesitated.

     “We don’t have much time”, the guy with the yellow Pokémon – Pikachu – on his shoulder said. “I’ll go first.”

     He then sat down with his feet inside the hole, bracing himself against the wall. Pikachu climbed around so that it sat on the guy’s chest instead of on his shoulder.

     “See you guys back home”, he said, before letting out a whooping sound and disappearing. Ari watched him disappear with wide eyes.

     “ _Oshawott_!”

     She jumped as the small creature who had saved her before came running into the alley. The Asian guy spat out what was most likely a curse.

     “GOPCA’s coming”, he said. “We need to move.”

     “I’ll stay until last”, the lean guy said.

     “Cilan...”

     “Go!” the lean guy bellowed, taking out a red and white ball from his pocket. The Asian guy grumbled something, before following the example set by the guy with the Pikachu and disappearing through the hole.

     “Your turn, ma’am”, the lean guy – Cilan – said. “I’ll hold them off.”

     “With what?” she asked.

     “With the help of my partner”, he replied and tossed the ball into the air. “Pansage, let’s go!”

     The ball opened and let out a shimmering, white light, which changed shape into a green, monkey-like Pokémon.

     “That was in the ball?” Ari gasped. Cilan did not reply.

     “Pansage”, he called, “use Rock Tomb!”

     The Pokémon raised its green front paws above its head and, suddenly, a giant rock formed in the air above it. Ari gasped.

     “Get down that hole!” Cilan ordered her. “Pansage and I can hold them off.”

     “You have such a hero complex, did you know that?” Ari replied before sitting down like the two guys had done. Cilan let out a bitter laugh behind her.

     “Not quite”, he said, just as Pansage threw the rock at the opening of the alley, blocking it. The small Pokémon who had saved Ari from Jeroen Cuijper jumped in surprise. Before she could reflect on what she was doing, Ari grabbed hold of its white paw and placed it on her chest, before lying down on her back and sliding down the chute hidden behind the hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a roll and can't stop writing as of now! We'll see how far I get today - tomorrow I will spend travelling and Thursday-Friday-Saturday I'll probably be celebrating Midsummer's with my family, so probably no chapters during those days.


	7. Chapter 6

     _Lights._

_Camera._

_Walk._

_Smile._

_Spin._

_Repeat._

_That is what my life is, what it always has been. My mum decided that I should be a model for me. She entered me in a ton of competitions, tutored me in how to walk and talk and behave. I got my first contract at the age of nine. Well, it was not much of a contract, more like a “hey, we like your kid and would like to use her in our campaign for kid’s clothes” sort of agreement between a regular clothing store and my mother. She only let me do one ad for them before hunting for other, more fashionable clients._

_I was taught to never disobey her, so I agreed to whatever she ordered me to do. Even if it meant a lot of hurt and pain afterwards. My mother did not care as long as she got her money. I was twelve when she made me kiss a man ten years older than me for a photo. He tasted of cigarettes and I wanted to throw up more than anything, but my mum was very pleased with the photo and said that I should work with him on other projects. I lost my virginity to him two weeks before I turned fourteen. That was three months before the Merging happened._

_My mum is a strong GOPCA supporter. She has been ever since it was founded and, since they are the ones in power, they help her get contracts for me. I was chosen to do tons of ads and runway shows instead of other models who had voiced support for the people of the Pokémon world. Before I was of age my mum took care of that money, but since a year back I was able to negotiate that fifty percent of the contract should go directly to me. I am not sure if that has been upheld perfectly, but I do get my own money nowadays. And I have my own apartment, in New York. I no longer have to spend all of my time with my mother, which is good because then I can do what I want instead of what she wants. I can go out clubbing. I can go to the library. I can decide where I eat and what I eat (as long as I do not gain too much weight). I can spend time with my friends._

_My best friend since moving to New York is a guy called Blaze. We do everything together and he always makes me feel normal. And no, I cannot date him; he is openly gay. Which makes it even better when we go to clubs and check out hot guys together. But we do not do that every night. Tonight is one of those nights when we do not go clubbing. Instead we are breaking and entering. The adrenaline pumps in my veins and I cannot help an excited grin as I look up at the skyscraper ahead. The Empire State Building. Blaze always knows how to choose the best targets._

_Something lands on my shoulder, weighing me down somewhat, but I already know what it is. It’s a friend. Blaze has a friend on his shoulder as well, though they are very different from one another. His is a bird. Mine is more squirrel-like._

_“Emolga”, I say to my friend, “you know what to do.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll see if I manage to write chapter 7 tonight as well X)

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this and would like to read more, please leave a comment!


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